How Can the Darkest Day be Good?

Never has there been more inhumane and unjust treatment of an innocent man.

The betrayal of a friend and the mockery of a Kangaroo Court handing Jesus over to be crucified, even though Pilate had three times declared Jesus to be innocent.

Imagine the Creator being treated as a corrupt creature unworthy of life.

That Friday, the darkest day in history, witnessed the most unjust and violent act. Even the sunlight was smothered by dreadful darkness. Jesus’ brutalized body was hastily, yet lovingly, entombed before darkness of night fell.

Yet, that dreadful day—that darkest day in all history marred with injustice—also witnessed the most severe justice and undeserved act of love.

Severe justice was meted out upon Jesus because He had assumed, taken upon Himself, my guilt. Your guilt. Each of us are lawbreakers guilty and deserving death because our actions have consequences—a price to pay. Paul said it this way, “The wages of sin is death.” (Romans 3:23) Always death. That’s the Law. No exceptions. Every sin deserves death. Every sin separates us from our holy and righteous God. Someone must die.

Severe justice was severely meted out that Friday.

Intensely sacrificial love was also on display Friday. Paul, once again, helps us wrap our minds around the subject: “God demonstrated (displayed) His love for us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

Jesus voluntarily assumed my guilt and served my death sentence by dying in my place. In your place. He became our substitute—our savior.

God’s severe justice was satisfied that Friday when the midday sun surrendered to darkness. God’s relentless love was also on display Friday.

That Friday evening, a few women walked home from the grave in the dark. The sorrow in their hearts was darker than the night. Hope had been dashed.

What they didn’t realize was that Sunday would dawn with brilliant light and renewed hope.

So, that shameful Friday was good after all.

Sunday burst with good news! News so great that today, I find myself singing with Charles Wesley*:

“Amazing love! How can it be that thou, my God, shouldst die for me!”

*And Can It Be?, public domain